Summer❤
Sitting on the end of the bed, I stare up at the black dress hanging on my closet door. After a week of turbulent hell, the funeral is tomorrow. It feels too soon, and everything feels like a blur, but James advised it was likely best to plan the funeral as soon as possible, else I could be here for a lot longer than anticipated.
I know he could sense my hesitation about staying, so he managed to speak with the police captain and medical examiner, and they agreed to release my dad’s body for cremation. For a few days, I felt an unbearable guilt, like I was trying to get everything over and done as soon as possible, but that wasn’t the case. The thought of my dad sitting in some cold fridge for longer than needed seemed cruel, even though I know his soul is now elsewhere.
Last night, I had a horrible nightmare. I was standing in the morgue surrounded by fridges. There was a loud, sharp banging that came from one of the doors, but when I approached, the knocking moved to another door, and then another. Pained screams followed, moving around different fridges. Each time I turned around, the noise moved to the opposite one. I could feel the terror in my body. I know it was a dream, but I couldn’t seem to force myself awake and pull myself away from the horror. On the final turn, I saw Harry standing in front of me, his suit covered in blood. As he held a knife towards me, his lips turned upwards into a sinister smile, and his eyes were hollow and dead.
As he drove the knife into me, I could hear his crazed laugh echoing off the metal doors. I woke up in bed, sitting bolt upright and covered in cold sweat. My heart thundering in my chest. My eyes flashed around the empty room, and at that moment, I hoped to see him. The dark reaper that keeps me safe.
Pulling my large grey hoodie over my head, I step into my warm slippers. With the funeral approaching, I have no intention of going out today. If anything, I want to lay on the sofa, eat pizza, drink wine, and cry until the sun comes up. There’s a heavy sadness hanging over this apartment today. For a moment, I could swear I heard my dad talking to me. I followed the voice and could smell his cologne in the empty kitchen.
I pull out a stool and lean against the marble island, shutting my eyes. The memories of cooking in the kitchen flooded my mind. Dad insisted he taught me how to cook and look after myself. The first dish I ever made was a Spaghetti Bolognaise, and I can still see the shock on his face as he took a spoonful, his face contorted almost in pain when he realized, I’d added a whole bottle of cooking wine.
Being a teenager, I assumed I knew better. I glanced over the recipe and that was about it. I misread one glass for one bottle and didn’t even use a good wine. My god, it tasted terrible. We fell about laughing and ended up ordering a pizza. We ate it over the kitchen island as he quizzed me on my future career choices.
The conversation felt alien to me; Mom had never been interested in a career of any type. She had Eric, and he was rich, so why the hell would she work? But I could still see my dad wanted me to have good values, and he was right. He wanted me to be a respectable member of society who worked, contributed and never relied on a man to care of me. He guided me towards college, which I enjoyed, and I gained my degree in business, but soon after I met Harry, any career plans seemed difficult for me. Trying to maintain peace. I never pushed it.
What a fucking waste.
Leaning my elbows into the marble, my chin rests in my hands whilst I focus on the ticking of the large clock above the oven.
“One day, you’ll find a purpose, Summer. It may not make sense to you initially, but in time, it’ll be the best decision you ever made.”
I can hear those words echoing in my memory, dad always seemed so happy with work. For a while, I wondered how you could enjoy running a couple of businesses but somehow, he did, and he thrived off it. Great working relationships with everyone he met. He was respected, fair, and incredibly generous to his hard-working employees. That’s why I knew none of them could have done this. They were like his family.
I feel a pain in my heart thinking of other people being his family. But deep down, I know he didn’t blame me for not being around as much as I wanted. But that still doesn’t stop the hurt.
I still when a gentle knock taps on the front door of the apartment. It’s not fear that passes over me this time. It’s frustration. Frustration that whenever someone knocks on that door, I feel scared. I shouldn’t fucking live like this. I’ll admit with everything that’s happened in such a short space of time, I’m likely living in a fight-or-flight state, but I’m starting to hate myself for it. I hate feeling weak and pathetic, but I know that only I can change that, and no one else can.
I can’t rely on my masked hero. I don’t even know what he fucking looks like or who he is. He just appeared in my life and continues to appear with no answers. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I feel my fists clench slightly as my deep sadness is soon replaced with anger.
When the knocking continues, I push from the bar stool. The legs screech across the tiles as I stomp towards the door.
“I’m coming!” I bite out as I swing the door open.
As the door opens, my anger washes away. Staring back at me are those deep emerald irises’ that make my knees weak. A heavy sigh escapes my throat, taking in his broad frame. My mind flashes back to that night in the shower, each powerful thrust, his hands roaming my body, and the toe-curling orgasm that left my body limp as the shower poured over us.
Blinking a couple of times, I push those memories away for now. Swallowing hard, I take a hesitant step back.
“What are you doing here?” I ask coldly, unable to meet his eye.
“I wanted you to know detective Strode is out of surgery. He’ll be ok, just needs rest for now.”
I feel the tension move from my shoulders, and I slowly nod.
“I’m pleased to hear it. I’m glad he’ll be okay.” I force a smile, but Bhodi doesn’t move away.
I crane my neck to look to him, I feel my chest rise and fall with each strained breath. My hard, tender nipples grazing across the fabric of my hoodie, the goosebumps rising all over my skin, followed by the chill of mystery as his gaze slowly travels the length of my body.
“I should probably get going. I’m heading out in a moment.” As I go to close the door, I feel a palm braced firmly against it.
My eyes snap back to Bhodi’s, cocking his head to one side, I see a smirk ghost across his lips.
“Are you lying, Summer?”
My eyes widen at his question. Still trying to close the door, he doesn’t remove his hand. My jaw falls open for a moment as my mind reels with a good excuse.
“I..No…Why?” I manage to spit out.
Fucking great, now he does know I’m lying.
“Just felt like you’re trying to get rid of me?”
Because I am!
“No.”
“Then, what?”
Letting out a huff, I scratch my forehead for a moment, trying to work out how to respond and not sound like a complete bitch.
“It’s probably for the best; we should forget whatever happened the other night. It shouldn’t have happened, and I don’t want to get in the way of your job.”
“My job?” He asks.
“We shouldn’t have crossed that line.”
Bhodi takes a couple of steps closer. My grip on the door loosens as the rich scent of his cologne fills my senses. Standing a few inches away, he leans closer.
“We did cross that line, you and I.” Sucking in a deep breath, my eyes flutter closed. “I have no fucking intention of forgetting the other night. I can still feel your body wrapped around mine, feel your skin beneath my grasp, and the way your tight pussy strangled and slid over my cock. I felt every moan, every contraction, and I felt your fucking soul leave your body.”
I finally let out the breath I’d been holding in. My heart is screaming to break out of my chest, my entire body is shaking with anticipation, and my pussy drips at his sinful words. I feel my feet begin to move backward. As I do, Bhodi closes the gap between us and kicks the front door closed.
“I’m not willing to let you go just yet, Summer.”